


Angel of Sin

by LotusAsh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, Angst, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Cthulhu Mythos, Dark, Demon/Human Dean, Horror, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Priest Castiel (Supernatural), Tentacles, Top Dean Winchester, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-08 10:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusAsh/pseuds/LotusAsh
Summary: In a world where the hell won the battle of Apocalypse and demons have taken over the earth, humans were forced to retreat into several major Havens to preserve the species. To fight the overwhelming evil lurking outside the Havens' walls and to take back earth one day, the Vatican created an army. They selected many gifted children from devoted families, burnt their soul to give them immense power equivalent to angels, and then raised them as “priests."To keep their power, priests have to stay away from all kinds of sins and temptations. Therefore the Vatican isolates priests in the Garden, and only allows them to go out to fight the demons.Castiel was trained in the Garden and became one of the priests at age 18. Since then he was always a righteous and loyal warrior of God for 20 years. Until in one mission, he was captured by a human-demon hybrid Dean Winchester, and his faith started to shutter. His innocence would soon be tainted by sin and suffering, and he would know that what hurts most is falling in love.Inspired by the 2011 movie Priest concept, but the setting and story are different.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel cleaned his silver blade meticulously, like it was the most crucial thing in the world. The mirror-like surface reflected his squinting blue eyes, calm and dark as the sea before a looming storm.

"Hey Cassie, Zachariah is summoning us, so you better stop being an OCD and hurry up." Balthazar was leaning on the door frame, smiling playfully.  
Castiel glared him, put the blade back to its sheath, hanged it on his forearm strap, and then put on a trench coat over his Roman collar clergy uniform to cover his weapon.

Many priests liked to use firearms, but he always had a taste for more antiquated ways. He was an old fashion and nerdy one, even by priests' standards.

They quickly strode across the stately hallway, passing through rows of pillars and statues. Priests were aggregating from all directions, like multiple black influxes were joining together, flowing in the same direction---The Sanctuary.

"How's life as a bishop?"Balthazar asked joyfully, "you are the first of our group to actually climbs the ladder. "

"It's just a Coadjutor Bishop, nothing really changes than before, just more Priests to lead."

"Except you could be the next Diocesan Bishop, and then you don't have to go out anymore," Balthazar speaked quietly, eyeing another direction, "Uriel is jealousy as hell."

"Don't say that abomination word," Castiel warned in a low and husky voice, also noticing some unfriendly glare coming from another group of priests. Uriel was the leader of that garrison.  
Castiel, Uriel, Anna, and Balthazar used to be trained under the same pastor and served together in Ishim's garrison for almost 10 years. Until Anna rebelled and was exiled by the Vatican, their friendship fell apart with her departure. When Castiel was promoted as the pastor, Uriel transferred to another garrison to avoid being under his leadership. But now, Castiel became his leader anyway.

Under the crucifixion, the Diocesan Bishop Zachariah was standing high on the pulpit, lazy eyes scanning down on all the priests. He cleared his throat, and the crowd falls into silence.  
"A new order has been given by the Vatican. A group of demons attacked our transport team, cutting the passage between the Third Haven and us. Five priests and a pastor from the Third Haven were killed, three priests were captured, and the sacred Staff of Moses was stolen."

A wave of murmuring was floating among the priests. Amid the anxious whisperings, Castiel asked confusingly, "But how? Demons cannot touch sacred items, they would have been burnt into ashes instantly."

"Good question. We don't know. That is why we need to send some of you to investigate and to retrieve the staff. " Zachariah looked at Castiel, speaking casually, "the Vatican suspects they are going to offer it to Lucifer."

Another wave of anxiety spread among the crowd. Lucifer, the Devil, who was also the last angel alive in this universe, could have undoubtfully used that staff and brought countless biblical disasters with it.

The staff was supposed to be the Vatican's weapon against the Devil. Why would the Third Haven sent so few priests to guard it?

Zachariah gave out the order, "Castiel, gather your best men and leave before midnight. This is going to be a dangerous mission since we don't know what is waiting for you out there. I will pray for each of you in every hour."

This was a rotten world.

The Apocalypse happened a hundred and fifty years ago. Heaven and Hell fought on the earth, setting every inch of the world on fire. All kinds of disasters tore the planet apart, millions and millions of people died. In the end, angels failed and were slaughtered to extinction by Lucifer's Hell army, left fragile human under the mercy of the Devil and his pawns.

To preserve human species, the survivors built 10 havens across those still livable lands, all governed by the Vatican in the First Haven. Humans were too fragile, too helpless to guard their last home against demons, so they made sacrifices---they selected talented children from devoted and willingly families and trained them into warriors of the God--- the priests.

Priests used unique spells to burn their souls to gain enormous power as the angels, protecting the majority from doomsday. However, in order to maintain their power, priests had to live chaste lives, free of sin and temptations. Therefore, all the priests were isolated from the rest of the Haven. They lived in The Garden in solitude and only left when there were orders.  
Before the departure, Castiel knelt in front of the Virgin Mary, saying prayers in his signature hoarse voice quietly. All other priests under his command were also kneeling behind him. They always loved to pray with Castiel before missions. His voice could help to soothe their fear and anxiousness, and listening to his prayer strengthened their faith.  
No one knew if they could make it back every time they leave the Garden. Faith was all they had.

"Amen." Castiel finished his prayer, hearing other priests echoing his last word. He grabbed his light package with all kinds of weapon and exorcistical items, strode toward the gateway of the Garden.

The Second Haven sprawled under the dark sky, gigantic buildings stood forbiddingly. Most people were sleeping at this hour. The group of priests swiftly crossed the empty streets, marching toward the colossal Haven door.  
The walls were two hundred meters high, made of steel, and engraved with all kinds of sigils. Beyond those walls, there was only evil, only chaos, and only death.

The lands outside were dreary and desolated. The soil was hard as stone, no vegetations could have grown on it. The air smelled like sulfur, ashes flowing around, burning people's eyes. There was no moon, no stars, only chunky and meaty black clouds. Sometimes immense and twisted shadows were fleeting through the clouds, no one knew what those things were, and nobody wanted to know.

They rode in cars and on motorcycles, all had been modified to reduce engine noises as much as possible, so they wouldn't attract too much attention.

Two days of wandering through the forsaken land, they finally located the group of demons. Castiel ordered 3 priests to carefully scout the demons' hiding site down the valley, discovering there were only 10 demons in there, all wearing human vessels, no yellow eyes, no higher rank demons. One of the priest prisoners was hanging from a tree, no trace of the other two. The box containing the Staff of Moses was in one of the tents. It shouldn't be too hard to overpower those sinful creatures to retrieve their target.

The demons were drinking and laughing, telling filthy jokes, and even fornicating in plain sight. Castiel observed them in disgust. However, there is one of them that looked...different.

It was a man, in his mid to late 30s, wearing a casual jacket, flannel shirt and denim jeans, sitting near the target tent in a relaxing manner, holding a beer, and laughing at something. He had an uncommonly handsome face, and his green eyes...  
He had the most beautiful eyes Castiel ever seen.

But it was impossible. Using the word beautiful on a demon was absurd. What was wrong with him?

Castiel gathered himself and ordered an attack.

That was a mistake.

A tall and stout demon was torturing the priest prisoner by using a lash, wiping his bloody body over and over. The priest was only around 20 years old, his young face was stained with tears, blood, and something else, something more filthy. The priest was begging for the demon to stop, but all his pleas only gave the demon more excitement.

"Do you like this, huh? "

Suddenly, a quiet and still figure stood behind the demon, gravel voice burnt with anger, "No, he doesn't like it."

The demon turned around, he only had time to see a priest in a trench coat staring him with penetrating blue eyes, and put a hand over his forehead.

A pure, holy light burst out from Castiel's palm, accompanied by the demon's deafening shriek. The demon's insides were melted like ice creams, his skin cracking and flaking.

Meanwhile, all other priests were charging toward other demons. Divine white light was blooming in the dark valley like fireworks. Demons tried to fight back, but priests were fast and deadly, their power was way beyond common demons.

Castiel used his silver blade to cut done the injured young priest prisoner, speaking in a comforting voice, "it's ok, you are safe now."

The young priest yelped in pain, couldn't even stand properly. He grabbed Castiel's forearm tightly, pleading in a broken voice, "kill me, please kill me. I have been defiled and broken...I 'm useless now!"

Castiel felt his heart aching in his chest. He knew what did the priest mean. He had seen so many priests who were captured by demons and were rescued back. They were no longer the same.  
They were abused and tortured in the worst ways. Their mind was tainted and broken as badly as their body, to the extent that they could no longer conjure the holy power and thus been labeled as "the broken ones," locked in churches' sanatoriums, slowly rotten away.

A priest's worst fate.

Some other priests would mock those broken ones as not strong enough to hold on, not faithful enough to overcome devilish influences since as long as their minds did not give in, they won't be broken. But Castiel always had more sympathy for them than the others. He couldn't imagine what they have been through.  
"I'm sorry brother..."Castiel held the broken priest, spoke sadly. Balthazar came to his side, and Castiel passed the priest to his friend, "take care of him, I will go to retrieve the staff."

Castiel walked fast and fought fiercely, burning every demon dares to block his way. His blue eyes filled with the celestial white lights, powerful and intimidating. Just when he was about to enter the target tent, a man blocked the entrance.

It was the man with beautiful green eyes. He smirked at Castiel, speaking in a deep and charming voice, "Sorry chuckles, cannot let you pass."

Castiel paused, for a moment he was confused. The green-eyed man did not smell like a demon.

A human?

How was that even possible?

Then, he suddenly realized why demons could steal the sacred staff. Because they had a human to hold the bomb for them...

"You..."

Just when he opened his lips, a mighty blow hit his back. His body collided on a tree, knocked out his breath. He tried to stand up, but instead vomited blood on the ground.

A red-haired woman was standing in front of him, seductive eyes blinked in black.

Abaddon, one of the four knights of Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is my secondary language, sorry for any weird expressions...


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel's eyes dialect in horror, breathes short and shallow, heart pounding with fear.

Abaddon, who was created by Cain himself, was one of the oldest demons. In one of the significant Apocalypse battles, she summoned an ancient monster that was beyond human imaginations, the giant worm-like thing burst out of the earth, gray and wrinkled skin dripping acid slimes, showering down on earth like a storm. It devoured thousands and thousands of angels, crushed their holy light in those grinding machines like teeth mercilessly.  
They have no chance to overpower such a pure evil thing.

Castiel yelled, "Retreat! Retreat now!!!" He struggled to his foot, eyes were burning with the divine angel-like white light. He started chanting in Enochian, consuming a big chunk of his soul to deliver a powerful spell that generates a blinding energy blow, bright enough to burn out most demons and even ordinary humans' eyes. The light bolt dashed toward Abaddon, intense energy shaking the ground.

Other priests tried to retreat under Castiel's light bolt cover. However more demons suddenly jumped out of the dark forests, many of them were burnt by the light, but some of them managed to tackle down several priests. Meanwhile, an unsettling rumble was roaring underground, like thunder rolling in the abyss, threatening to tear the land apart.

And then, the light was dying. Abaddon was standing at the same spot without even a scratch. She smiled wolfishly to a terrified Castiel, stretched her arms toward the sky, and chanting in an echoing demonic voice.

The ground opened. Prodigious tentacles broke the earth and lashed toward the sky. They were covered with intensive lumps and tumors that shook like water balloons, emitting a suffocating smell like rotten corpses. Toxic spikes sticking through the bumps, sharp enough to tear any armor or flesh.  
Castiel watched priests were being pierced by those spikes or are melting into a mash of meats by acids. They screamed in the most horrible ways until there was nothing left. Castiel knew it was his fault, he should have waited, should have known there would be a powerful demon guarding the sacred staff.

He ran toward a tentacle chasing after Balthazar and the priest prisoner, chanting an enhancing spell on his silver blade, and threw it with all his strength toward the tentacle. The blade stabbed into the abomination, flooding several strikes of thunder-like white lights through it's rotting skin. The tentacle seemed to feel a certain degree of pain and retracted, but then turned around and sweeps toward Castiel.

A body suddenly tackled Castiel on the ground as the tentacle roaring over them. Castiel's breath was knocked out of him, but then he was staring into a pair of green eyes.

The human.

"Aren't you a crazy one." The human chuckled, "that thing could have torn you into pieces."

Castiel realized that he was being pressed down by the man's more muscular body, and started to struggle to get out. The man wouldn't budge.

"Get off me!" Castiel commanded in a hoarse and intimidating voice. He tried to draw more power from his soul, but he had burnt a big chunk of it today and was too exhausted to conjure energy anymore.

The man only looked amused, "I just saved your ass chuckles, how about some gratitude?" He was strong, a wired mark seemed like a burn wound embossed on his forearm, and a dangerous and powerful force was emitting off it, repressing Castiel's power. He grabbed Castiel's wrists, holding them above his head and winked at the helpless priest.

"I have always wanted a priest slave, and you look pretty priesty."

Balthazar had fleeted with several other priests. The unlucky ones' flesh, bone pieces, and limbs were scattered around the ground, unrecognizable as parts used to be connected to some human bodies. Castiel looked at his failure in agony, losing his will to continue the useless struggling.

"Congratulation Dean Winchester, you just got your first priest," Abaddon spoke in a charming and lazy voice while walking toward them, the gigantic tentacles were dancing sinuously around her, horrible and splendid at the same time.

She tossed an iron collar with Enochian engraves to Dean and smirks, "the first lesson on 'how to train your priest,' always put your dog on a leash."

Dean grabbed the collar and snapped it around Castiel's neck, and then bonded his wrists with a rope. Castiel could feel that something was trapped inside him when the collar touched his neck. He tried to reach to his own soul, but could not find it.  
A sense of confinement and emptiness washed over him, he panicked and started to tug the collar in vain. Dean stood up, looking at Castiel condescendingly. Other demons were gathering behind him and Abaddon, black eyes glittering with pure malicious.

Castiel could only pray for a quick death.

___  
Two days later, the demons entered the ruin of Kansas city. The once glorious city of Jazz had been obliviated into a forest of crooked edifices, collapsing buildings and broken bridges, like a giant's corpse sprawling under the forever dark and greasy sky, slowly eaten away by time.  
This was one of Abaddon's palace. She loved to admire her artworks of destruction by living in it. Her demon troops had settled in, wandering among the wreckages, discovering human's legacies, torturing some ghosts on their way.

Castiel was held in a forsaken Notre Dame, hanging from chains right in front of the Madonna. A demonic joke.

His arms hurt like hell, and his feet could barely touch the ground. He had to struggle miserably to stand on his toes just to slightly relieve the weight from his wrists.

A demon guard with a tall and robust vessel was surrounding Castiel slowly, eyes beaming with hunger and sly.

"You look older than our previous toys." The demon approached Castiel, beholding him in a way that made Castiel's stomach twitches, "I heard that all you priests are virgin, are you a virgin too?"

Castiel decided to stab the demon with his eyes, not answering any humiliating questions.

"Ooh, a scary virgin then." The demon mocked in a sarcastic tone while extending his hand to touch Castiel's chest. It made Castiel shiver. He tried to avoid the disgusting touch but lost his balance, hurt his hands even worse.

The demon looked around, trying to avoid being seen fondling the prisoner. Making sure there was no one watching, he got bolder and began to tug on Castiel's pants. Castiel's whole body tensed, struggling in vain.

"You know, other priests break so easy, it's not even challenging anymore. How about you? Do you think you can hold against pleasures and sins?"The demon smiled eagerly.

Castiel had heard things about how did those demons break his fellow brothers and sisters. Those filthy, unimaginable things...And now, every rumor suddenly became so real.

His courage was failing him. There would be no one save him from this, and he could not fight back. Desperation and fear crept into his blue eyes, transmuted into waves of shudder. The demon inserted a hand inside his pants, groping his ass, violating Castiel's most private areas in a way that made him both confused and terrified. He began to pray helplessly in his head. It was a kind of reflex reaction. When he was afraid, when he felt powerless, praying is the only thing he could do.

The demons hot sulfur smell breath gushed on his face, stuck out his tongue to lick his earlobe. "Later, I will make you scream your God in a much much louder way."

"...Passion of Christ strengthen me. Good Jesus hear me. Within your wounds hide me. Never let me be parted from you. From the evil enemy, protect me..." Castiel didn't even notice he was saying the prayers aloud, and that somehow excited the demon more. He grabbed the Roman collar and tore the clergy uniform open, exposing the priest's bare chest.

The demon lowered his head and bit on Castiel's chest, drawing blood into his mouth. Castiel tried to hold back a whimper, but a finger was circling around his back entrance, and he was on the verge of begging, begging the demon to stop.

And then, the demon was screaming. Red flames burning under his skin, bursting out from his eyes. When the demon fell on the ground, the green-eyed human was standing there, brows knotting with anger.

"Told you don't touch my things!" He spat on the demon's corpse, then looked Castiel over and asked, "you ok?"

Castiel was still shaking, but he inhaled deeply, gathered himself to look as calm as possible, and noded.

"Good."Dean put the knife back into a sheath on his belt, hesitated for a second, and walked toward Castiel.

Castiel tried to retreat from him.

Dean held up his hands, "relax man, not gonna hurt you."

Castiel looked at him suspiciously, "why should I trust you. You are with them."

Dean shrugged, curled his lips and says, "because you have no choice, what else can you do? "

Had to say, he got the point.

Dean reached out his hands and tried to put Castiel's garbs back into places. Though he was obviously not very good at dressing up a priest, struggling with the buttons of the uniform.  
Castiel relieved a little, heart rate was slowing down. He didn't know why, but he felt this man won't do bad things to him.

There was no evil in the man's eyes.

"Ok chuckles, what's your name?" Dean raised his head and asked with a cocky smile.

Castiel hesitated for a second, then answered, "Castiel."

"Castiel? Do you priests all get weird names?"

"It is a baptismal name. All priests have to renounce their family and their secular names."

Dean chuckled. Does this priest answer every question so seriously?

"Alright Cas, I'm Dean." Dean spoke while pats on Castiel's arm, causes the priest to swang a little, and whimpers in pain.

"Sorry, can't untie you."Dean grimaced, "demons may talk if I do that."

Castiel observed Dean, eyes squinting confusingly, "Why are you with demons? You are a human."  
Although Dean captured him, it was mainly for saving his life. Castiel didn't understand how did a man end up here, walking among the monsters that destroyed their world.

Dean laughed as if Castiel said something hilarious, "I am no human. "

"You are not a demon, I cannot smell sulfur."

"Well, I'm not a demon too. I am both, like a half-half mix."Dean leaned on a church bench, talked in a fluent and casual tone, "my dad is a demon, but my mom is not."

Castiel could only stare, "you...you are an antichrist..."

"Hmm, that sounds way cooler than a 'human-demon hybrid,' I should tell Sam. Sam is my brother by the way."

"You have a brother?!"Two antichrists?! Can things get even worse?

Dean watched him amusingly, "do you have to repeat everything I said?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prayer Castiel said is Catholic Anima Christi prayer.  
Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel woke up in a cold shiver. For a swift moment, he forgot where he was until the rattling sound of the chains hanging around his wrists brought him back to reality.

Walls and the roof of the Notre Dame were partially collapsed. Vines and moss were invading the once celestial palace of God, spreading their green-brownish color on the mottled stone surfaces. Through the hole over his head, Castiel could see a trickle of moonlight was pouring on the Madonna, flowing on the innocent face of her holy son.  
A fragment of sadness melted in Castiel's blue eyes.

How did the world fall so far, far away from their father, their God?

What has humanity done to deserve such a gradual and miserable fate of annihilation?

A light snoring sound was coming out from one of the benches. Castiel turned his head and saw Dean, the antichrist, sleeping like a baby, with a little drool on the corner of his mouth, one hand still holding an empty beer can.

There were rumors about antichrists. The Vatican said they were powerful and evil hybrid monsters that were extremely dangerous and hard to kill. They said even a general demon and a human's offspring could conjure unimaginable demonic forces that surpasses even the yellow eye demons. Therefore, every time an antichrist is born, the Vatican would send specialty priests to 'purify' it immediately, which usually involved bathing it into holy water, then prayed while watching it melts into a puddle of blood and gore.

Castiel had never seen an antichrist before, but he couldn't feel such intimidating power coming off the antichrist who captured him. In fact, from the way Dean fought, Castiel suspected he had any supernatural powers at all. Most of the time, Dean seemed to prefer using brutal physical forces rather than demonic forces.

Suddenly Dean dropped the empty beer can, producing a brittle clang. Dean jolted awake and looked disoriented, cursing quietly, and then his eyes met with Castiel's.

"You were looking at me when I was sleeping?" Dean arched his brows, "kinda creepy dude."

Castiel rolled his eyes, "you can let me go, and I promise I will never look at you again."

"That hurts. Besides, even if I let you go you won't last an hour out there." Dean paused, and then asked, "I heard that you priests burn your souls to gain power, and you seemed burned a lot last night."

Castiel replied dryly," I did, but it will heal if I could rest for about a month."

"Isn't it a bit...unholy? I mean what if you don't have time to heal? What happens if you burn out your soul? Would the church kick you out?"

Castiel surprised that Dean was so curious about his soul, and he answered dutifully, "Usually our superiors will make sure each of us has time to recover after every battle. In rare cases, if the unfortunate happens and we burn out our soul, we won't be able to feel things anymore, and that is dangerous to society and the Garden. The Vatican will place us in a sanatorium to retire."

Dean grimaced, "A sanatorium? Sounds like a 'shit hole to rot' for me. So what, they just use you up until you are useless and then abandon you? Why do you guys even working for those assholes?"

Castiel's eyes flashed anger, obviously had been offended, "we are trying to save our world, from you demons who are destroying it. And if it causes my soul so be it."

"Alright, good for you. "Dean looked at him as if he was some poor brainwashed bastard, and Castiel really didn't like it.

The Notre Dame's heavy doors opened squeakily, a tall demon with a wicked smile walked in, following by several lackeys. Dean tensed a little and stood up instantly.

Castiel could sense there was something terrible and rotten glittering in the demon's eyes. A cold shiver started to creep into his tired body.

"My favorite apprentice! I heard you finally got yourself a priest toy?"The demon beamed toward Dean, then his sight pined on Castiel's hanging body.

Dean pulled his lips, gave out a rigid smile, "Alastair! I thought you went back to Hell?"  
"I was, just got back." The demon called Alastair drew near to Castiel, the uncomfortable smile deepened, and whistled excitedly, "oh sweet Hell, this is no ordinary priest, this is a bishop, one of the most righteous ones. I can sense the divine mark on his soul!"

The other demons yelped jubilantly as if they stumbled across some big prize.

Castiel had a bad feeling in his gut. He pressed his lips in a thin line, trying not to show any weakness.

Dean frowned, "what? I thought bishops don't come out."

"Unless he is a Coadjutor Bishop, like a bishop in training? " Alastair had a weird sluggish accent, drawing every word together in a mush. He looked over Castiel with an unsettling eagerness, "This is good, Dean. A bishop's corrupted soul could generate enough power to break the heaven seal. If we could present him to our Lord, he will be very pleased."

Castiel spat out, "I will not succumb to your filthy tricks!"

Alastair grabbed Castiel's neck brutally, chocking the air out of him, "oh yeah? Wait until my most talented student shows you his...artistic works. Or you know what, I'm gonna work on you myself, paint you with some more colors."

Castiel couldn't breathe. He felt his eyes were bulging, and his face was turning red. His mouth opened but couldn't draw in any oxygen.

Dean protested immediately, "What?! He is my trophy!"

"You have got him for like a whole night, and you haven't done anything to him yet. Maybe you don't like him?" Alastair challenged Dean mischievously, releasing an almost strangled to death Castiel.

Castiel drew in a big gulp of air, coughing like a stranding fish. His whole body was shaking violently from the near-death experience and rattled the chains that are holding him.

Dean groaned annoyingly, "of course I fucking like him! I mean look at him. He is a living definition of a servant of the fucking God. I just want to...take my time ya know."

"Well, you don't have much time. We'd better get him presentable before our Lord comes. "

"Okay okay! I will start now, happy?"

Alastair made no move to leave.

Dean raised his eyebrows, spoke sarcastically, "some privacy?"

Alastair laughed, "since when have you become so shy?" Though he signaled other demons to leave with him, while slapped on Castiel's ass and grinned wolfishly, "let's see how long can you hold up, sunshine."

The doors were closed. Castiel looked at Dean nervously, worrying Dean's 'benign mannerism' was just a facade, that his true nature of brutality would start to unfold now.

But Dean just looked at him thoughtfully and sighed, "guess I will have to torture you then. "

Castiel shivered, asked hesitantly, "That is Alastair, the master of torment. Why did he say you are his apprentice? "

"Because that's who I am. "

"No, you are not. You are not like them..."

Dean laughed, "how do you know? Maybe I am exactly like them."

"I know evil when I see them. "Castiel tried desperately to convince Dean. Although he was aware that they were on rivalry sides, and Dean was an antichrist after all.

Dean's expression shifted a little. Something dark and painful was smoldering in his bright green eyes. He walked up to Castiel, grabbed the latter's hair and yanked his head up.

"You have no idea what evil is. You naive choir boys were just locked up in those pretty little Gardens and pray to your dear God before you eat or sleep or I dunno... before you poop as well maybe? You don't know anything about suffering or fear. You don't know anything about evil, and hell you don't know anything about your glorious Vatican and what they are capable of! So don't you dare to look at me with those big eyes and say you know what I am!"

Castiel flinched. He was stunned by Dean's outburst of dark emotions, and could almost tell that of all these times while looking relax and carefree, Dean was smothering profound pain and anger in his heart.

The strange thing was, instead of fear for his own life, Castiel's heart pained for the man in front of him. Even though he had no idea what Dean had been through to get here, to renounce his half-human identity and be a protege of an archdemon tormentor.

They stared at each other, blue eyes to green eyes. The air between them was getting tense and hot as if something was about to break. Dean suddenly retreated, step back a little, and then storms out.

A minute later Dean appeared again from another entrance, holding a water bottle filled with...blood?

Castiel looked at him confusingly.

"So here is what we are gonna do. I will pour pig blood on you, and you will scream, as loud as possible. "

Castiel frowned, processing the information, "so we are going to fake torture?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "damn right we are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel's throat hurt from screaming for two hours straight. It would have felt like he smoked ten packs of cigarettes, only if he knew how to smoke. He coughed a little, speaking raucously, "water..."

Dean brought a water bottle toward Castiel's lips gingerly, watching Cas gulped down more than half bottle in one shot. He chuckled, "wow wow slow down. You don't want to drown yourself. "

Castiel released the bottle and moaned satisfactorily. The noises he made somehow stirred an unexpected excitement inside Dean's lower belly, producing a cluster of heat tickled in his blood vessels. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat, "better?"

Castiel's voice was like being ground by a gravel car repeatedly, but strangely attracting, "do you think they will buy it? "

"Oh they will. You should listen to yourself's scream, its beautiful, like an angel. "

"...Shut up..."

Dean smirked, started to smear more pig blood on Castiel's face, even stuck some gore on his skin. And then he drew out a blade and cuts through Castiel's clergy uniform and trench coat. 

Castiel looked at his ruined favorite trench coat in a bit of distress, "Is this necessary?" 

"It makes you look like an uptight accountant anyway."

If not his arms were killing him, Castiel almost wanted to smile. Then a lurking worry slips into his mind, and he mumbled, "This may not going to last long. Alastair is not a fool, he will know there is no actual harm done to me."

Dean glared at him, "what do you suggest? To actually torture you?"

"Why not?" Castiel ventured, "my brothers and sisters have been captured by them before, you didn't intervene, why help me?"

Dean raised his eyes, some obscure sentiments were swirling in the green irises. He was debating something in his mind, not sure if he should give out a snippet of his secrets. 

"You don't remember me at all, do you."Dean eventually said.

Castiel stares at Dean, brows twisting into a bewildering knot, "have we met before?"

"Yes, I recognized you when I saw you in that ridiculous trench coat."

"When?"

"About 15 years ago, Detroit. You were ordered to wipe out the whole town, and you let Sam and I go."

Castiel then remembered. He was 23 by the time, and it was his first big gig. There was information indicating Azazel, the prince of Hell, was preparing a ritual in Detroit to awake an ancient god from its eternal slumber. The Vatican opened the Tomb of Saints and revived several sacred weapons, and gave them to the strongest Coadjutor Bishops. The order was to blood-baptize the whole city, killing every living thing in it. Since the so-called "living thing" could only be demons or other monsters, the order made sense at first.

Castiel followed Ishim, who was his Garrison leader as well as one of the Coadjutor Bishops that held the sacred items, marched into the devil infested city. They fought bravely, viciously, and mercilessly, angelic holy lights burnt like heaven descending. They managed to stop the ritual in time with great causes, losing more than a thousand brothers and sisters. Azazel was forced to flee with most of his minions, but there were many demons and monsters trapped in the encage circular that encompassed the whole city. 

While doing the cleaning duty of stabbing demons with his blessed silver blade, Castiel found two humans in one of the house basement. A young man who was probably had just arrived majority was trying to shield his little brother, ready to attack anyone who dared to come close, though panic was threatening to spill out from his pretentious gallantry. 

Castiel was shocked to see humans, and he immediately reported the situation to Ishim. However, Ishim told him the order clearly stated anything alive has to be neutralized regardless of their species and then ordered him to end these two boy's lives. Castiel tried to argue, but Ishim refused to give him more rationale behind the order and warned him of his "transgression" by stuck him with his whip. 

Castiel still couldn't do it. He helped the brothers escaped the city, gave them all his remaining supplies, and drew them a map to the nearest Haven. 

Castiel spoke in revelation, "You were the older one."

Meanwhile, the order of the Vatican made sense now. They probably knew there were antichrists in that city. What he didn't understand was, why didn't Ishim just tell him?

If he knew they were antichrists, Castiel doubt he would have made the same decision. And that made him sick of himself. 

Dean was about to say something, the doors were opened again. A demon told Dean that Abaddon summoned him. 

Dean glanced Castiel with flickers of worrisome, but he was at no position to refuse the request. He had to leave with the demon.

Castiel immediately felt the loss of security. A suspending sense of looming danger gave him goosebumps. 

Dean didn't come back for a long time. Exhaustion gradually pulled Castiel into a disturbing dream. 

He dreamt of an unfamiliar world, existed before Homosapien ever walked on the earth. The very molecules flowing in the air were mutated and primordial. A colossal green sun shined like a great hollow eye, scanning the vast planet nonchalantly. The smell of the rotten sea and damp sand floated in the thick air, accompanied by the rumbling sound of waves rushing to the shore. 

In front of him, a splendid dark palace stood forbiddingly. Every angle on those towering pillars and inclined walls were somehow...wrong, bent to morbid and impossible directions, cut space as well as reality into pieces. 

While regarding the unknown palace, an instinctual horror filled Castiel's mind without apparent causes. He saw some figures covered in hooded cloaks were kneeling in front of the dark temple, chanting a lost language in chorus. Their voices were uncannily low, almost like bubbling under the deep green sea. 

And then, something was disturbed. Something big and ancient, the very definition of terror. The earth started to rumble and shake, a horrifying roar came off from the hollow belly of Gaia. Some of those cloaked figures panicked and tried to run. Unfortunately, they were too late. 

Thousands of black tentacles were surging out of the temple, almost like a giant black dahlia of pure blasphemy blossomed gloriously. Those tentacles were nothing similar to the one Abaddon summoned. It was something older, something evil and divine at the same time. Those tentacles swept the land, devoured all those cloaked figures. Anything it touched, it infected, it defiled and homogenized. The wretched screams were hovering under the dark meaty sky. 

Castiel wanted to run, but couldn't stop staring at the same time. There was a particular element of mesmerizing in the scene unfolding before him. 

Until something coiled around his ankle and slithered from his shin to his thigh instantly. Castiel looked down, discovered those black tentacles twined around his legs. He shouted in horror, tried to retreat his blade to cut them. But more tentacles constrained his arms, pulled them toward different directions. Castiel was lifted into the air, struggling like a helpless bug captured by a spider web. Those sticky soft things touched him in a filthy sinful way, wormed their way in his trench coat and clergy uniform, licking his belly and nipples, left disgusting slime on his warm skin.

Castiel was so scared. He didn't understand what was happening. He felt some of the tentacles wiggled and squeezed into his pants, coiled around his dick and his ass, poked his entrance teasingly. The wet and squeezing feeling on his dick ignited some dormant desire within him, uncomprehensible pleasure rising from his crotch, and that scared him more than anything.

Castiel cried out, "God! Help me!"

To his dismal surprise, a voice from every direction answered him, "I am your God."

But it was not his God. It couldn't be his God. The voice might not even be in real sound waves but rather an intrusive thought echoing in his mind. And it was the ugliest and terrifying 'voice' he'd ever heard.

He jolted awake and realized he was not alone. Alastair stood in front of him, playing with a silver blade in his hand. 

Castiel's silver blade.

"So. "Alastair spoke with his sluggish but dangerous accent, "Dean likes you too much, to the extent that he doesn't want to torture you."

Before Castiel could say anything, he suddenly drove the blade into Castiel's shoulder. 

Castiel screamed in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here comes the Cthulhu mythos~


	5. Chapter 5

Alastair was laughing, but Castiel could sense anger fomenting beneath the crooked smile. The master of torment enjoyed his pain, digging the blade deeper into his bone. 

"Already trying to influence my protege, aren't you — such a faithful little soldier of a non-existing God. You see, I think you are not as righteous as you look. I heard you moaning in your wet dream."

Castiel tried to hide his humiliation and guilt, but the pain on his shoulder was affecting him. He could only spat to mask his panic, "God exists, and his wrath will fall on all of you!"

Alastair tilted his head as if he was considering the possibility, and then punched Castiel's face. The taste of blood filling Cas's mouth, his eyesight turned black for a brief second. Before he could gather himself, the second blow drove into his gut, and the third one, fourth one... Castiel's body swung like a punching bag, and something was bleeding inside his stomach. Castiel was not unfamiliar with physical pain, but Alastair knows which parts were more vulnerable than the others, and he took that advantage relentlessly. 

"If Dean couldn't work on you properly, I will take care of you myself." Alastair grabbed the chain that tight around Castiel's wrists, eyes flashing black. Demonic spell came out of his mouth like a curse, and the chain holds him abruptly loosed. Castiel fell to the ground, wrists bleeding severely, knees too weak to support his body. He struggled to stand up, but before he could find balance, Alastair grabbed his hair and dragged him toward the entrance. 

"You are my little bitch now." The demon grinned darkly.

Everything hurt. Castiel struggled desperately, managed to get out of Alastair's grab for a second, but then a forceful kick landed on his side, causing him to cough blood. Alastair grabbed his iron collar this time, dragging and chocking him concurrently.

"Alastair, what the fuck are you doing to my priest?!"

A weary wave of relieve rushed over Castiel's mind. He lifted his eyes, finding Dean standing at the doorway, brows furrowed in an angry knot.

Alastair regarded him casually, "the real question is, what the fuck are you not doing to this little pathetic thing? Do you really think some pig blood can fool me?"

Dean kept calm, one hand reaching his demon knife, speaking intimidatingly, "let him go Alastair."

Alastair squinted his eyes, held the silver blade on Castiel's neck. The sharp edge sank into Castiel's skin, blood trickling down, stained the collar. 

"Do you want to defy me for this priest?" Alastair hissed.

Dean curled his lips, smiling coldly, "oh yeah, he is much prettier than you."

"You ungrateful little bastard, you will regret this!" Alastair spat out those words and extends the other hand toward Dean. Suddenly Dean's body was like been hit by an invisible force, flying across the room and smashed in multiple church benches. 

Just at this moment, Castiel abruptly grabbed Alastair's hand and tried to snatch the blade, took the latter one by surprise. Still in his weak state, Castiel was overpowered by Alastair in the end and was thrown to the nearby wall. 

Alastair was enraged, strode toward Castiel with a deadly look. He was going to tear that friggin priest to pieces. 

But then, Castiel stood up. All his wounds were healing, blue eyes burnt with celestial radiance. When he forayed Alastair, the goal had not been to get the blade, but rather to use the blade to break the engraved spells on his collar, and he succeeded.

Dean was dazzled by the erupting halo, had to cover his eyes to avoid been fried by pure energy. The seemed weak priest suddenly became something otherworldly, something powerful and dangerous — shadowy wings spreading behind his back.

Those wings were not like angel's real wings; they only manifested when the priests were burning their souls using angel magic. But the scene was still imposing, and you could even see the feathers' shadow shaking in the gushing of air.

Alastair stared Castiel's transformation with a stunning face, a trace of fear crept into his demonic eyes. He tried to hold up his stand, raising his hand to summon burning hellfire between his palms. The magnificent fireball burst toward the priest, roaring like a furious dragon. But just when it almost hit Castiel, the priest raised his hand, and the fireball was like hitting an invisible wall, spreading like a red sheet along the unbreachable surface of the celestial power. 

Then, Castiel strode out of the still-burning wall of fire, blood-stained face holding a merciless and deadly expression. He was fast, and even when Alastair stabbed him again with the angel blade, he seemed did not feel anything. He choked Alastair's throat and put the other hand on the demon master's forehead, spoke raucously, "now who is the bitch?"

White light was poured inside the demon's mind relentlessly. Alastair screamed, while his eyes and mouth were burning with blazing hellfire. Castiel kept burning him until the demon's vessel was cremated into ashes. Then he stumbled back, all the glorious lights dying out. The frightening being of God reduced to a pale and gaunt man once more.

Dean rushed toward Castiel, one hand touching his shoulder, "Cas, you okay? What the hell was that?"

Castiel replied exhaustedly on his latter question, "It's angel's magic. "

"I know it's priests' trick, but that was...I mean, you smote Alastair! The priests we had before weren't able to do that. "

"Then I guess I am no ordinary priest. "Castiel spoke wearily. He is really really tired right now. He shouldn't have burnt this much of his soul so soon since he hadn't gotten enough time to recover. 

Dean looked around and spoke quietly, "we have to move, it's not safe here, Alastair's minions will be here anytime."

Castiel inhaled deeply, tried to gather more strength. Dean steadied him, put one of Castiel's arm around his own shoulder, moving as quickly as possible to the other entrance behind the Madonna. 

3 demons were guarding the back entrance of the Notre Dame. Dean hid Castiel behind a pillar, moved as quiet as a shadow sweeping through the dimly lighted corridor, stabbed the guards with a hand covering their mouth so they wouldn't be heard. He took Castiel to his car -- an antique Impala parked in the nearby cemetery, stashed the almost unconscious priest into the trunk. 

"Just hang in there for a second. Will let you out when we are out of here." 

Castiel nodded weakly, "thanks."

Dean couldn't believe the damn priest was thanking him. After all, it was he who had captured Castiel. Although if he hadn't done that, Abaddon would have shredded Cas like meat paste with her pervert ancient creatures. 

He closed the trunk and drove as fast as a rampant bull. His car had several sigils that could prevent demons from tracking his location, but he still needed to throw off some pursuing demons. Apparently demons had found out what happened in the Notre Dame. A dozen streams of black smoke rose into the dark sky, then shot toward them like meteors raining down from the sky. 

Dean cursed and sped up, skillfully avoided all the scrapped cars and massive concrete chunks lying in the middle of the roads. Demons were fast, but he and his Baby were faster. The vintage vehicle was hurtling along the rugged road like a black phantom, slightly but steadily increasing the distance between the demons and itself. 

They dashed out of Kansas City and kept speeding up. Castiel felt his body was bumping around like a ping pong ball, made it impossible for him to slip into unconsciousness. He could only hear his own hitched breathes, mildly wondering if he would eventually pass out from asphyxial.

A couple of hours later, the car was finally slowing down. Castiel drew a big gulp of air when the trunk was opened, realizing his whole body was soaking in sweat. 

Dean helped him get out of the trunk gingerly, "easy, easy man. "

Castiel supported himself by putting his hand on the car, "where are we?"

"Somewhere near Marysville. " Dean looked over Castiel in concern, "you okay? "

Although all the physical wounds had been healed by the angelic power, Castiel knew his state was worse than before. He needed rest, a lot of rest, and was in no shape to fight another powerful demon. 

"I will be fine, I just need some rest."Castiel then asked Dean with concern, "what will happen to you? "

"Don't worry about me, I never liked Alastair anyway, and demons kill each other all the time," Dean said cockily, though some worries were lingering behind the green eyes. He paused for a second and said, "look, I have a safe house in Lebanon, and my brother is there. We can go to check on him, and you can also gain some rest over there. What do you say?"

Castiel considered his options, and noded, "okay."

The rest of the way, Castiel sat at the back of the Impala, head leaning on the car window, eyes closed as if he was sleeping. Dean was startled when Castiel suddenly asked, "I have never seen you use any supernatural power. Are you sure you are an antichrist? "

Dean laughed, "I prefer 'physical contact.' Besides, I have some mojo, it's just not much, not as much as Sammy. "

Castiel opened his eyes, "so you are more like your mom?"

"Power-wise, you could say that."

A period of silence, then Castiel asked hesitantly, "you said I have no idea what the Vatican is capable of...what did you mean by that?"

Dean swallowed, not sure if he should tell the priest. From their interaction so far, he could tell that Castiel believed in the Vatican's goodness wholeheartedly. The priests all did. That's how the Vatican's biblical brainwashing and isolation techniques worked, turning them into obedient and faithful soldiers. 

Disillusion is a painful thing, and somehow he wouldn't want to inflict that pain on Castiel. At least not for now.

"Nothing concerns you." Dean paused a second and changed the subject, "you hungry?"

Before Castiel could answer, Dean threw a pack of Jerky to him. Chilli Lime flavor. 

Castiel looked at the snack curiously, as if he had never seen such a thing before, "what is this?"

Dean arched his brow, "its Jerky. What you never had Jerky before?"

"Uh...no? "

Dean quickly turned his head and gave Castiel a "are you shitting me" look, "what do they feed you in the Garden?"

Castiel answers precisely, " On Monday it's salads for lunch, fish and mashed potato for dinner, Tuesday we have chicken noodle soup and meatball pasta..."

"Okay, okay, you don't have to recite your weekly menu for me."

"You asked."

"...so like the menu never changes?"

"It changes by seasons. Certain ingredients are hard to grow in some seasons, so we need to plan accordingly."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Okay, now eat your Jerky."

Castiel gingerly put one piece of dry beef into his mouth and chewed, his brow knotted with concentration as if he was analyzing the ingredients, "it is an interesting texture."

Dean chuckled, finding himself rather enjoying the priest's everlasting straight face.


End file.
